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It should have been a simple job.

The message had been sent out late at night along the usual grapevines. A priority bounty to anyone in the area of Candlekeep, planted on the head of one Savan. The pet gnoll of some librarian named Gorion who’d run afoul of the wrong people was running scared, and whoever took the beastman’s life would cash in on a cool two hundred gold coins! That was a lot of money for one furball. Enough to spend a winter wiling away the time with some mulled wine and some books. Or enough to blow it all in a week of raucous acts of hedonism, but Tarnesh was too smart for that.

Likewise, he was too smart to go haring off into the wilderness like others had done! Candlekeep was a fortress monastery. Nobody got in unless they had the proper texts. Therefore this gnoll was stuck and would have to survive on it own. No doubt the old man had done his best to civilise the beast over the years, so its survival skills would be poor. And ergo it would do its best to reach civilisation! And the only civilisation around these parts was the Friendly Arm Inn.

And so Tarnesh had positioned himself at the front stairs since the early morning, hands tucked into his long sleeves, peering through his spellbook over and over to make sure his repertoire of magic was properly prepared, squinting out over the inn’s courtyard and watching the road for his target. The dumb beast would stand out like the moon on a starless night, and then it would be a small matter of magic applied in the proper ways! He could collect proof of death and the innkeeper might even throw in a little reward for slaying the foul beast that dared step onto the lands of civilised people! Such fantasies carried the bounty hunter through the course of the day.

Around noon when the sun climbed high in the sky, Tarnesh was starting to get a bit impatient. Hours later, he was starting to get frustrated too. And as the sun pushed hard towards the horizon, he started to worry.

Could the stupid beast have got itself lost? Killed by wild beasts? Had another hunter been quicker to get to him? Had two hundred gold coins slipped between his fingers? He could go out and check but then what if this Savan showed up while he’d left? And besides, after all day lurking in his position, he was getting hungry and thirsty.

Cursing himself, all gnolls everywhere and this Savan of Candlekeep in particular, Tarnesh leaned against the wall of the inn and rubbed his hands together in his sleeves. Trying to ignore the grumbling of his stomach, he glowered out at the world, lank hair clinging to his face. Nothing! There was nothing out there! Just the occasional passer by, greeted by the guards and heading up the stairs into the in! More and more boring humans, with not a gnoll among them! This was getting ridiculous!

Biting at a lock of his hair, Tarnesh barely even noticed the two travellers passing by him. The big one brushed by, bumping him lightly. “Watch it” the mage barked in irritation.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The big man ducked his head and peered at the ground, letting himself be tugged along by his red headed companion, a girl a good head shorter than he was. Together they made their way up the steps and disappeared into the Friendly Arm inn.

Watching them go, Tarnesh shook his head in derision then looked away, eyes returning to the front gate. Any time now. Surely it would be any time…

///////

The Friendly Arm inn was larger and better fortified than Winthrop’s place, with its own guard barracks, stables and almost a small village that had sprung up around it over the years. Built on a set of crossroads that saw heavy traffic north to Baldur’s Gate and south to Beregost and Nashkel, the inn was a welcoming sight for many a weary traveller who was anxious to be off their feet and rest in safety.

Thankfully the commons looked pretty much like Winthrop’s. It was larger certainly, and with more people of all kinds of types. But it had the same energy, the same kinds of tables and chairs, the same fireplace, the same bar top with kegs and bottles lined up behind it.

Savan looked about, safe in the magic of his mask. His eyes picked out an empty table and he nudged Imoen. “There’s a spot. You want to go grab it while I see about getting us some food?”

“Sure thing. Here.” Imoen plucked a pouch of coins from her pocket and pressed it into Savan’s hand. “That should at least get us something to eat.”

And hoo boy, Savan could sure use something to eat! His stomach felt all scrunched up in knots and growled angrily, torn between guilt and nausea and hunger. The only thing he’d eaten all day was some spare cookies that Imoen had filched from the kitchens. And he’d barely been able to keep those down, so sick with worry had he been!

Fortunately the act of ordering food and drink wasn’t any different from back in Candlekeep. Rather that fat and jolly Winthrop, the innkeep was a wiry halfling man but the process was pretty much the same. So nervous that his mask would fail him, Savan was relieved when the busy innkeep barely paid him any mind and directed a waitress to get him what he needed. Some bread. Some stew. A couple of tall drinks. At no point did someone call him out for his ears or his spots or his enormous teeth. Gorion’s magic seemed to be working. Still, Savan waited uneasily while trying not to look uneasy. And he didn’t feel even a little better until the waitress finally gave him his tray of food and he paid her with a few coins before turning to seek out Imoen.

The red head had staked out a spot in the center of the room and appeared to be fending it off against all comers. When Savan joined her, she was telling a couple disgruntled other patrons that this table was reserved. “…And don’t go griping at me! You should have got here quicker if you were so dead set on this one. Jeez!” Savan hid a smile and ducked his head, admiring her guts and waiting until the other patrons had moved on before taking his seat beside her.

“How do you manage to do that?” he asked her, nudging her bowl and portion of bread towards her.

Imoen was already about to dive in when Savan asked that. Waving a hunk of bread about, she puffed up and grinned with pride. “Aw heck, I just look them in the eye and act like I belong! Nothing to it!” Then she bit into the hunk of bread forestalling further talk for the moment. Which…Savan couldn’t really argue with. He was starving too, and he settled in to wolfing down food with gusto.

Imoen ate a little bit slower, enough to keep her eyes open and peering about the commons. There was always something happening in the commons of inns. Whether large and well traveled or small and rundown, there were always weathered adventurers, or mysterious wizards, or ragged bandits. That’s what the books said anyway. The good books, not the musty tomes and scrolls that were so common in Candlekeep. Mind you, they often had interesting bits in them. How to do magic, for one. But the stories that had handsome heroes and seductive heroines and cackling wizards were so much more interesting. Imoen read those by the dozen, often with Snapper listening with rapt attention. So it only made sense to keep her eyes and ears open here, hungry or not. And indeed, it quickly seemed to pay off.

“Psst! Snapper!” she hissed and batted at his forearm. “Look here!”

Looking up while chewing on a large hunk of bread, Savan peered about them in the general direction that Imoen was pointing.

The Friendly Arm inn was a pretty popular destination it seemed, with all kinds of passers by, especially now as the dinner hour approached. There were farmers, soldiers, monks and scholars. There was a brooding half orc in heavy armour and a cranky looking mage just coming in after spending hours outside. There were folks from all walks of life. And Imoen was pointing to a table in an out of the way place where there were two people seated, a man and a woman. They both looked elvish. The man wore chainmail and had a sword and shield slung over his back. The woman was in leather armour, had long brown hair and a stern, flinty look in her eye and a quarterstaff resting against the table. And they were speaking to each other in low voices while watching Savan and Imoen from where they sat.

Savan peered at them with some alarm. “They sure seem interested in us…” he whispered.

“Yeah. I don’t suppose Gorion told you what his two friends looked like?” Imoen whispered back.

“No. Just their names. Khalid and Jaheira. Hmm…” Savan considered, scratching behind his ear. “That sounds like a man and a woman, right?”

“And looking around, there doesn’t seem to be any other pairs that stand out” Imoen went on. “Listen…we might need to try making the first move and actually ask around about Gorion’s friends. I know that we’re being hunted by crazy and violent murderers, but…”

“But we’ll never get anywhere if we stay put” Savan finished for her. He huffed some and stared into his bowl of stew, wishing he hadn’t swallowed it all down so quickly. “Alright. So. I guess…I’ll go and ask the bartender then. See if they’re who we hope they are.”

Imoen nodded and started to say something encouraging to her shrinking violet friend when she caught sight of something. Nodding to Savan, she said “You may not have to. Look over there…I think we’re about to have some company.”

Savan turned his head to watch. And indeed, the pair of adventurous types had got up from their table and begun to make their way over to where Savan and Imoen were seated. The more heavily armoured man took his time, slowing his pace as a couple of local farmers crossed his path, chattering to each other, while the woman made a beeline right for their table. Though she did wait a moment or two for her companion to catch up, while her eyes studied the two of them. Savan squirmed in his seat uncomfortably, feeling like she could see right through his mask. At least the male half elf smiled encouragingly and waved to them in greeting.

“H-hello there!” he said with a slight stutter. “May we join you?”

Savan and Imoen shared a look at each other. Ahemming some, he inched his chair down the table some to make room on his end, as Imoen nodded and waved a hand. “Yeah, sure thing. We were just talking about you two!”

“So we noticed.” The woman was only somewhat brusque as she took her seat, steepling her fingers together as she regarded Imoen. “You two have a tendency to whisper overly loudly. Perhaps in the future you should take care to be more discrete, yes?”

“Ah, well there’s nothing wrong with talking openly, is there?” Imoen said easily. “It’s a free world out there, right?”

“A free world that could see you dead without warning” the half elf said flatly.

“Hmmm…” Imoen scratched her chin in thought, then turned to the man. “I’m sensing a vague hostility here.”

“Not so th-that I’d notice” the man said with a sheepish smile, exchanging a glance with Savan. Both of them having just met, yet coming to an understanding in who was to do the talking in the moment.

The half elf looked from Savan to Imoen and back again, arching an eyebrow as she did. Imoen just smiled irrepressibly back at her. It looked for a moment like neither of them would be the first to speak up. Eventually the older woman snorted some and glanced to Savan in particular. “My name is Jaheira” she stated. “This is my husband, Khalid. Tell me…which of you is Savan?”

“Can’t say that I know that name” Imoen said easily, keeping her innocent smile. “And father always said never to go giving my name out to strangers!”

“Hm. Well he was clearly a wise man then.” Jaheira looked halfway between amused and annoyed. “As it so happens, another wise man of acquaintance to myself and Khalid asked us spend some time here at the Friendly Arm Inn. And that If some wards of his were to come by, we could be so kind as to look after them some.”

“He does sound like quite a guy” Imoen agreed. “I bet father would have liked him a lot!”

“No doubt. He was a man of great intelligence. A gentle soul. But one who would put his life on the line for others.” Jaheira paused for a moment. And Savan wasn’t sure what it was about her posture or expression…or maybe it was a bit of both, like she was trying particularly hard to be stern in the moment…but it felt to him like she was trying keeping herself together. Like she really HAD known Gorion…and missed him too. Or at least that’s how it seemed to him, and the dull ache in his chest.

“B-but he was also a man who wouldn’t hesit-tate to put himself in harm’s way” the man, Khalid spoke up. “Once he spear-headed a p-plan to take a red d-dragon down a few pegs.”

Savan blinked and looked to Khalid in surprise. “A…red dragon?”

“Oh yes! One of the biggest…cruellest…most arrogant and d-destructive kinds. They’re so proud. And so c-covetous. They’ll raid and rob and steal and kill for anything valuable, and then just keep it all to themselves. They breathe fire, think themselves so clever…” Khalid smiled wistfully. “And Gorion…out-smarted this one real good. And then he went home, back to Candlekeep. Almost before the dust was sett-ttled.”

“…Why was that?”

“Well…from everything th-that he told me about his son…I think he wanted to get home to him as soon as he could.”

Everyone at the table was silent for a few moments following this. The hustle and bustle of the Friendly Arm inn might as well not have existed. And it was Jaheira who picked up the conversation next in more muted tones. “The first time we met him, we were working together. Bringing some violent criminals to justice. He was a young scribe at the time. But showed quick thinking and courage. And kindness.” She paused significantly and eyed Savan closely. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but he found himself straightening up instinctively, like when captain Jondalar was about to set him to running laps. “And what he told us about his son was that he is a rather singular young man.”

“…Singular? How…so?”

“He described him as tall, strong, well built. Though that doesn’t exactly make one stand out, does it? Hmm…Khalid, what would you say Savan’s most standout features were?”

Khalid hmm’ed for a moment. Then tilted his head and said “I would have t-to say…that it was the spots.”

“…Spots. Hmmm.” Imoen turned to Savan and arched an eyebrow. She leaned in real close and examined his face carefully. “I can’t say that I see any there…you sure that you have the right Savan?” She was putting on a good front, but he could see the concern underneath. And was pretty sure that he knew what she was thinking. Could they trust these two?

Savan was thinking a similar question…they had little money, barely any rest, and were alone in the middle of a wide and dangerous world. Could they afford to ignore Gorion’s advice? He would have preferred to let someone else make the decision for him… But it seemed like Imoen would bluff and bluff and bluff until the cows came home…so…

“Gorion told me to meet up with Khalid and Jaheira” he said softly, peering from one to the other. “At the Friendly Arm Inn.”

“Snapper…” Imoen murmured warningly, frowning. He just nodded to her, too tired to go round and round like this anymore.

“I’ve got spots…but I’m keeping them under wraps here” he continued, “Since people seem to want to see them on some kind of rug. And I know…that I should be more careful. You could be faking it, right? You could have killed and replashed the real Khalid and Chaheira…but…” He shook his head slowly. “If I can’t trust fasher…then who can I trust?”

There was a moment of silence around the table. Savan just slumped in his chair and crossed his arms on the tabletop. Imoen scowled, looking uncommonly tense. Khalid…smiled. And even Jaheira nodded slowly and managed to look less severe. “I hope that we can give you more of a reason to trust us than Gorion’s word” she spoke softly. “It would be a fitting last service to him…but for now, I would imagine that the two of you are quite exhausted.”

“Well. We were kind of walking all day” Imoen said carefully, not quite ready to concede that they were with potential friends and allies but unable to deny that…exhaustion was rolling on over her. “It’s hard work, running for your life and trying not to die.”

“Hehe…the g-glamourous life of a professional adventurer.” Khalid chuckled lightly and pushed his chair back from the table. “Here. I’ll take you to our room. We booked two just in case. You should rest up…and tomorrow we’ll talk business and see where to go from here.”

“We have some ideas as it is” Jaheira continued, “But try to just sleep if you can. Tomorrow will come at its own pace.”

And what was there to say to that? Savan and Imoen shared a look. She nodded slightly to him, leaving it up to him. And so he breathed deeply and nodded as well. “Thank you…”

///////

Savan was not often a dreamer. Once he and Imoen had been taken to one of the rooms that Jaheira and Khalid had rented, he had removed his mask and his coat, dropped his pack on the floor, kicked off his footwear and just collapsed onto the bed. In such a state, he would have expected to spend the entire evening without so much as a flicker of his subconscious.

But ohhhh…that night the visions were vivid indeed…

He found himself back before Candlekeep. The doors were barred before him, and up in the keep he could see the candle lit in his bedroom, glimmering soothingly in the night. Beckoning him home. Yet he couldn’t reach it, and eventually the light flickered out. The very walls of his home conspired to keep him away.

While he pondered how to get back inside, a familiar voice startled him, though it was calm and caring. “You cannot go back this way, my son. You must go on.” Turning about…he came face to face with Gorion.

Even in a dream Savan felt his heart clench with pain. Even though his father smiled to him, he was dead. Little more than a shadow. Gone from the world. Nothing more than a fading dream.

“Fasher…” Savan whispered softly, hands reaching out. Moving through the spectre. And Gorion’s smile turned sad.

He nodded gently, saying back “I know son. I know. But there’s nothing more here for you. Look ahead…keep moving.” He half turned and gestured out to the dark woods ahead.

Savan hesitated and peered into the darkness. The trees loomed menacingly. He could practically hear the whispers of all that waited to ambush him. The way would be hard…but as he studied the darkness another path revealed itself through the trees. A smooth and well lit path that wound off in another direction, promising safety and smooth journeys.

Savan took a step forward. Then hesitated, eyeing the new path with a certain apprehension. It certainly looked safe enough. And the more he studied it, the more he felt a…pull towards it. Like it would swiftly and safely guide him back home. But…it just seemed too convenient…

The dark way through the trees would be more dangerous. More difficult. And certainly scarier. But…the whole world out there was waiting for him. It would certainly be interesting!

So Savan took another step forward, his ears perking at the last whispers of encouragement from Gorion. He knew that behind him the phantom would fade away. And…he felt the pull towards the safe and easy path become a push. But he grit his teeth, put his head down and pushed forward away from his old life.

A whisper followed as he strode away. Something soft and sinister that he had heard before yet could not place. “You will learn…”

He didn’t look back.

///////

The next day Jaheira took charge. She had such a confident, matter of fact way of speaking that Savan, weary of the adrenaline and the fear was all to willing to let her take the lead. At least she seemed to have an idea of what to do now.

“We have been investigating the iron shortage along the Sword Coast” she explained over a breakfast of porridge and bacon. “Do you know much about it?”

“Not much” Savan had admitted, his mouth full of food. “The guards at Candlekeep said that bandits were stealing shipments of iron up and down the coast. I guess it must be getting pretty bad.”

“it is appalling” Jaheira agreed. “And even worse than you’ve heard. It’s not just that iron s being stolen from the roads, but so much of it being brought from the ground is coming out rotten.”

“Rotten? Iron…rots?”

“I would not have thought so, and yet here we are.” Jaheira shook her head grimly. “Brittle, crumbly, useless. A veritable plague contaminates the iron. Khalid and I are to investigate this blight. And for this, we are headed south to Nashkell. One of the premier iron mining towns along the Sword Coast, and one of those worst hit.”

“Hmm…” Savan mulled this over while finishing up breakfast, eyeing his empty bowl sadly. Well, one couldn’t spend all day on breakfast after all. “It sounds dangerous. But…interesting.” He thought about the strangely vivid dream that he’d had last night…shaking his head some and smiling. “We’ll come with you then. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. Imoen at least is pretty sneaky and good with a bow, but I’m just…” He shrugged. “Me.”

Fortunately, Jaheira had some ideas in regards to that. And so Savan found himself with Khalid in the commons, sorting through an assortment of weapons.

“There are swords of all sorts” he explained, gesturing to a wide assortment of weaponry of all types. “Light one-handed blades meant for speed and stabbing and closing in with your foe. Big two-handed swords that give you reach and sheer force but are slower on the swing. Spears which are meant even more for fighting at range. Axes of all sorts, which are like swords in their versatility but have more weight in the head and as such have a stronger follow through. Hammers, the better for battering at armour. There’s a mace and a Morningstar here, which are just clubs with spikey heads. Simple and uncomplicated, they’re good for breaking bones and knocking people off their feet. And then there’s a flail, which is kind of silly…I’ve never really understood flails. You’re just as likely to injure yourself with one as you are your enemy. I always wanted to get down and work out how to apply them in a fight, but never really had the time for it in between all the work and travelling.”

“How come you have a backpack full of weapons?” Savan wondered, kind of mind boggled by all the sharp steel and hardy wood spread out over a table.

“Well, you never know when you’re going to need a spare weapon.” Khalid smiled self consciously despite being much more confident with the subject at hand. “Besides, with the iron blight going on, they could break any time.”

He certainly couldn’t argue with that. Though Savan was nearly paralysed with indecision when Khalid encouraged him to pick something to start off with. Weapons… He wished that Captain Jondalar had given him some training with them. As it was, he decided to mix and match some weapons that had some good weight to them, as at least he knew how to swing a hoe and a rake from chores. A couple of one handed maces, a hand axe and a big bastard sword to complete the set. With his light armour strapped on, it felt like he was jingling with every step, and he figured he looked ridiculous… Though Imoen kept giving him approving thumbs up so he kept his grumbles to himself.

And thusly equipped, it was time to go. Glancing at Imoen, he smiled encouragingly, hoping that she was feeling as at ease as she seemed to be.

“Once more into the breach then?” he asked her. And she grinned and elbowed him in the side.

“At least this time we’re not alone” Imoen added, and giggled in amusement. Hurrying up ahead and running out the door to the Friendly Arm inn, rushing out into the morning sun.

Jaheira let out a sigh and summoned her patience as she followed her outside.

Savan looked to Khalid for direction. And the half elf smiled and gestured letting him go first. And out into the world he went again, taking a moment to peer up at the sunny sky and feel the warmth on his masked face. And from there it was down the stairs.

Near the bottom he brushed lightly against a man who looked…cold and tired and grumpy for some reason. Had he been out there all night? Yeesh…what could have kept him out? “Sorry” he mumbled, then promptly forgot about the man, picking up the pace to hurry after Imoen and Jaheira.

He completely missed the way the man grumpily responded. Then did a double take, eyes widening at his departing back, realisation clicking.

///////

On the road again. For the third time in three days. This time there were four of them. So perhaps three and four were charmed numbers?

Of course, safety was more secure in numbers, Savan reflected while the band travelled down the road, heading south from the Friendly Arms inn. Maybe any would be assassins and monsters along the road would think twice before harassing them.

As though she were listening and waiting to burst his optimism, Jaheira spoke up to Imoen. “Keep your eyes open, child…the guards spoke of a band of hobgoblins lurking in the area. Harassing and robbing travellers.”

“Really!” Imoen listened, rapt with attention. “What do we do if they pop up looking to chew off our faces?”

“You stay back and shoot them with your bow and arrows. Let the rest of us fight them up close. I will support us with my magic where I can. And above all…do not get yourself killed.” She kept such a straight face when she said that, Savan could almost believe that she was joking.

Imoen seemed to agree, because she smiled brightly and quipped “Yes ma’am! No getting myself killed! Well, there goes plan A.”

Jaheira let out an impressive snort. Savan looked beside him to where Khalid was bringing up the rear with him. The older man smiled reassuringly and waved vaguely off to the side.

“Oh t-try not to worry about it t-too much” he said. “Bandits and thieves…they’re not looking for a f-fight. They just want to rob some people nice and q-quickly, and t-end to stay out of the way of groups of armed travellers. They’ll t-take one look at how armed we are and think t-twice about picking a fight. We’ll be fine!”

It was sound logic. Savan mulled it over while they walked along the well travelled road and couldn’t find any flaws in it. So it was that when a trilling, howling war cry echoed through the air, and a half dozen tall figures came charging out of the sparse woods, Savan almost felt annoyed that his emotions were being yanked by the universe again.

When he thought about it later, what Savan remembered most about his first real battle was…how little he remembered about it. There was Jaheira chanting some magical spells that made plants erupt from the ground, seizing and harassing the hobgoblins, grabbing at their legs as they cursed and chopped them with their swords. He was dimly aware of Imoen in the back, firing arrows with great speed and enthusiasm. At his side was Khalid, his shield up and saying some encouraging words that flew right through Savan’s ears. But the bulk of his attention was on the hobgoblins.

He’d never seen one before, but they were tall, brawny types armoured in leather and fur. Orange skinned with matching eyes, one brandished a long spear and the other had a shield and sword. One had a thick topknot and the other’s hair was a messy mane. They snarled and growled to each other, and the one with the spear cut left, jabbing at Khalid and drawing him away. The other grinned wickedly and advanced on Savan, his sword back and his shield forward. All the little details in the here and now just popped out before his eyes even as the rest of the world dimmed around them. It was just Savan and the bandit. Gnoll and hobgoblin.

And for the third time in as many days, he did not know why someone was trying to kill him!

If it hadn’t happened too quickly to think, then he might have gotten angry about all this.

As it was, he couldn’t recall thinking consciously as he grabbed one of the maces hanging from his belt and swung wildly at the charging hobgoblin! The blow missed by a mile, but it made the bandit pause for a second and raise his shield. And that gave Savan time to pull out the hand axe with his free hand and step forward, taking another swing. This time the weapon impacted with the shield and nearly tore it from the hobgoblin’s grip. For a split second he felt exhilaration. He was stronger! He could do this!

Then the hobgoblin stepped in closer and stabbed at him savagely and things went so wrong. Savan was stronger, but barely knew how to swing a weapon. And the experienced bandit stabbed him twice in quick succession. Pain exploded in his senses and he stumbled back. The bandit followed him without pity, grinning wickedly. It was by sheer luck that his third stab was deflected off Savan’s armour, getting stuck in the studs and the leather.

And then it happened again.

'Pathetic…will you die like a worm?!'

His head pounded. A rushing song surged through his ears. And all at once he felt he could act. The pain was irrelevant. There was only him and his foe who dared face him.

The bandit released his tangled sword with a curse and drew his dagger, hiding behind his shield when Savan swung the mace again. This time the wooden barrier exploded under the force of the blow and bones crunched satisfyingly beneath. The bandit’s eyes bulged in surprise and pain right before the handaxe took him in the temple with enough force that the top of his head exploded. Savan narrowed his eyes against the gore and he growled deep in his chest, turning to at last take a view of the battle.

Khalid had chopped his hobgoblin’s spear in half and was driving him back with his shield, pivoting to strike a killing blow. Two others were held fast in vines and shrubs growing rapidly from the ground, struggling helplessly for freedom. Jaheira and a fifth were exchanging blows, neither giving an inch as her staff and his sword cracked together noisily. And Imoen was rapidly and enthusiastically firing arrows at the sixth. Several were sticking out of his arms though with his raised shield he protected his vitals while charging the young human.

Then WHACK! The hand axe left Savan’s hand and tumbled end over end through the air until it planted itself into the bandit’s skull. The force of the blow sent it reeling to the side, stumbling, staggering, then flopping bonelessly to the ground just feet away from Imoen.

She stared at the freshly made corpse, pausing while nocking a new arrow, then turned to look at Savan, her jaw dropped. He looked bloody. Tough. And downright ferocious, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Tense and ready to pounce. If the fight wasn’t pretty much over, then he looked like he would have charged headlong into the band of hobgoblins and made them pay for looking at them sideways!

Their eyes met, Savan’s gleaming gold and Imoen’s wide. The air was thick and silent. Then she found her voice again.

“That. Was. Awesome!!!”

Savan murfed and lifted his head, eyes going dark once again. He looked around muzzily while Imoen chattered in delight. “That was some great aim! And the way it just hit him in the head!” She made some sound effects and waved her hands, miming the axe flying through the air while he peered about at the newly made battlefield. It was all over. Really, it couldn’t have lasted…twenty seconds or so? Jaheira had cracked the skull of her bandit and Khalid had struck down his with his sword, and now the two were dispatching the final pair trapped in vines. He set his hand to his forehead and shook his head, suddenly dizzy. He stumbled backwards, reaching out blindly for a tree that he could lean against and heaved for a bit. Imoen following at his side in concern.

“Hey, are you alright? Jeez, you’re bleeding! Here, let me see!”

“It-it’sh fine.” He tried to dismiss her worried but Imoen was already tugging at his studded leather, trying to see where the bandit had stabbed him. “Imoen! Shtop…I’m alrighth…”

“Let her be” Jaheira scolded as she approached, twirling her quarterstaff before sliding it back into the sling on her back. “Even the smallest of wounds can become infected and worsen. Here. Let me see.”

Savan’s protests were roundly ignored and he found himself with his slashed armour being pried open, the shallow stabs bleeding a lot but not reaching anything important. It was the work of a moment or two for the druid to cast a light healing spell. Savan sighed in relief as the wounds closed up and he planted himself down on a non-bloodied patch of grass to take a breather.

From there while he rested up some and watched Jaheira and Imoen, once she was certain that he would be alright, settle down to examining the bandit bodies. Feeling himself sweat behind the mask, he reached up without thinking and shoved the porcelain up and out of the way, feeling much better with the breeze on his face. And mulling over what had happened. HOW it had happened.

“Was that your f-first time in a b-battle?”

Savan acked some…he hadn’t even notices Khalid coming up to him and easing to the ground. He looked none the worse for wear, for the fight. His shield was scored several times from the hobgoblin’s spear, but he smiled encouragingly and didn’t look away from Savan’s face. Seeing him in all his spots, so to speak, for the first time.

“…Yeah.” Savan nodded slowly, ears folded back. “I’ve been in some fights before…people have…tried to kill me before. But that was…the first real battle.”

“Well…you’ve done better than plenty of other young men have.” Khalid smiled encouragingly. “I don’t men to impose…but if you’d be w-willing, then I would be happy to t-train with you.” It had been touch and go for a time, and he’d been worried for a moment. Savan was tall, powerfully built and had quick reflexes, but there were so many like him that wound up dead by the wayside…

With his mask up and his bestial features exposed, Khalid would have expected Savan to look more ferocious. He’d rarely been up close to gnolls before in a non-combat situation. His ears and eyes were so expressive, and he hmm’ed in thought while mulling over the offer.

“Huh…I didn’t think that…people were going to want to kill me” he said, sounding surprised at the realisation. “But I guess…I should learn how to fight properly…”

“It s-seems like it would be a good way to…honour G-Gorion’s memory” Khalid suggested lightly.

An odd look came over Savan’s face and he was silent for a moment, his big brown eyes just gazing off into space. Like he was remembering something. “…I can’t look back” he murmured softly, voice guttural so that Khalid could barely understand him.

Blinking, the warrior tilted his head. “Pardon?”

Savan jerked as though prodded. He blinked, his ears twitched back. Then they lifted again and he smiled, turning his muzzle away shyly. “Sorry. It’s nothing. Just something from a dream” he murmured.

Something from a dream. Khalid thought back, remembering twenty years ago when he’d watched Gorion hold the little gnoll cub in his arms, letting it gnaw on his hand. It really did seem like a dream…had it really been so long? It had to have been. Because the cub was all grown up and Gorion was dead…

“Well” he noted. “Maybe you c-can’t look back. But you can k-keep him in your mind while you move forward?”

“And if I do that, then maybe the singing will stop…”

Savan said that part to himself and missed the confused look on Khalid’s face. He made his decision in that moment and straightened himself up, wincing a bit. Jaheira’s healing magic had closed the wound but it still ached painfully. Reaching up, he took hold of his mask in his hand but…hesitated before pulling it down over his face again. “I…would be honoured…if you would teach me how to properly fight” he said to Khalid, folding his ears back. “I know that it’s a little late, considering, but…”

He would have gone on but Khalid smiled and reached out, putting his hand on Savan’s shoulder. “Savan, I would be very p-privileged to teach you what I know” he said. “We’ll have to work at it as we go. It won’t be easy…we’ll be travelling every day. I can show you exercises and practice moves, and we can spar some when we can. You’re going to ache and s-sweat. And it will hurt. And we’ll have to f-fit in as much as we can…because people are going to try and kill us while we investigate this iron crisis. And…people are already trying to kill you. But…” He looked at Savan seriously. “I won’t let that happen. WE won’t let that happen. For G-Gorion. And for you…”

And Savan smiled back and splayed his ears, scratching the back of his head and mumbling wordlessly. And what could he say to that…?

“Thankshou…” he murmured quietly, feeling all warm and happy and…hopeful.

Gorion was…gone. But the world wasn’t over. He could…move forward. And follow that unscouted path.

“Now, lets go and re-j-join the others” Khalid said with a smile. And with that, Savan let himself be drawn into the future…whatever may come.